


The Obvious Fact

by Knox_1895



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF!John, Fluff, I don't know how to do tags, John is a babe, M/M, Sherlock has aspergers, Three Continents Watson, Virgin!Sherlock, ish, probably a bit OOC, slightly-needy!Sherlock, trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knox_1895/pseuds/Knox_1895
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being teased mercilessly about his virginal status, Sherlock decides a change is in order.</p><p>Or, Sherlock's attempts at dating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Hundred and Forty-Four

**Author's Note:**

> So. Hello everyone. My name is Katie, and after many months (many, MANY months) of lurking in the hidden corners of multiple fandoms, I have decided to write.
> 
> This might be a bad idea.
> 
> Because this is my first time, I am offering myself up to the no-doubt critical masses of the Sherlock Fandom. This means that even the slightest typo is grounds for a severe punishment - to be delivered at your leisure down in the comments. If you love me and decide to take pity on my terrible writing, please offer yourself up as a Beta. I would be honoured.
> 
> Please note that I am Canadian, so although we primarily use British spelling (at least where I'm from,) punctuation can sometimes slide to the American side of things. Terribly sorry.
> 
> Thank you very much, please don't sue me, I love you, goodbye.

### Chapter 1: One Hundred and Forty-Four

As girlfriend number one hundred and forty-four squeals for the nineteenth time, Sherlock feels rather annoyed. Not with the female homo-sapient-sapient currently bouncing on the bed upstairs, but rather with the male one. Really, Sherlock thinks sagely, John should probably know better by now than to bring his girlfriends home. The detective rises from his quiescent pose on the sofa and reaches for his violin. The pleasant, screeching sounds from the instrument fill his thirsty ears. After fifteen minutes of squeals much lovelier than that of the woman's filling the flat, Sherlock's fingers fall silent, and he listens for a sound even sweeter than his violin: the front door slamming closed. Sherlock smiles pleasantly, and lovingly places his instrument on John's chair.

"Sherlock - "

He makes a halfhearted sound in his flatmate's direction and returns to his thinking pose on the sofa.

"Really Sherlock, we talked about - "

Sherlock waves his hands impatiently, eyes still closed, "Yes, yes. 'Don't be a bother, Sherlock'. Well, I wasn't."

John sighs, rubbing his sweaty brow. "Sherlock, I don't know what you'd call that screeching noise, but I'd most definitely call it being a bother. Are you purposefully giving me blue-balls?"

"But John!" Sherlock cranes his head back to gaze at John with his most innocent expression, " I was _serenading_ you. Women _like_ music. If anything, my violin should have made her fall in love with you!" He smirks happily in John's direction, "The only explanation is that she didn't want you in the first place."

"SHERLOCK - " John stops and holds his hands up as if to calm himself. "Sherlock, I am going out. For a walk. Without you."

"But John!" Sherlock whines, "What about dinner?"

"You don't _eat_ dinner, Sherlock."

"Well, no, but I do appreciate the gesture!"

John throws up his hands in exasperation and turns to grab that hideous coat of his. Sherlock, eyes still closed, only hears John's heavy footfalls on the stairs and the slamming of the front door before silence envelops the flat.

"Well," Sherlock pouts to the empty room, "He really _should_ know better." 

* * *

John, of course, brings dinner home. Sherlock, attempting to make his gratitude for the food known, hovers about him while he eats, deducing little tidbits about his blogger's walk home.

"It was raining, I see."

"Look out the window. Sherlock."

"And you stepped in a puddle. Tisk tisk, John. Having muddy trousers won't get you any sex from Jenny."

"Janine."

"Whatever. Phone please."

John sighs through a mouthful of tandoori and passes his mobile over his shoulder to Sherlock's energetic figure. Sherlock scrutinises the phone before opening John's recent texts. A short bark of laughter interrupts John's chewing.

"What?"

"Really, John. Calling her the wrong name? Amateur."

John blushes a rather fetching pink. "Hey, you just did it too! Besides," he murmurs, "Their names _are_ really close." He gathers himself up in a huff. "And who are you calling an amateur! You've never even been interested in sex!"

Sherlock's grin cools significantly, and silence falls on the pair.

After staring at his food for a while, the shorter man says, "Look, I didn't mean - " The tail end of Sherlock's robe curls around the corner after its owner, and the detective's bedroom door shuts with a click.

John looks down at his plate, awash with shame.


	2. The Epiphany

### Chapter Two: The Epiphany

In his Mind Palace, Sherlock stares pensively at The Girlfriend Wall. This Wall is situated in the North-East room of John's Wing, and is mainly used to annoy Sherlock's flatmate.

Yes, John has a wing. Sherlock refuses to dwell on it.

 _Perhaps,_ Sherlock muses, _perhaps this requires too much memory. **Delete?**_ But, as always, he decides against it. And as always, he keeps gazing at the spider's web of knowledge in front of him.

A puzzle, that's what it is! So, what makes John do all the things he does for these women?

_Sex._

And?

_Love - **Delete does not compute no -**_

No. Forget that. What does he gain from sex?

_...Happiness? **No NO**_

Sherlock's eyes flash open, and realisation hits. He's been looking at this the wrong way around. He doesn't need _John_ per say, he just needs sex!

_Fact: John likes sex._

_**Fact: Sex=Happiness.** _

The Great Detective smiles a clever, clever smile.

_I need a girlfriend._

* * *

One thing that Sherlock had not taken into account while in his Mind Palace, was how utterly _boring_ women were. Not all women, of course. _The_ Woman had been quite interesting while she'd lasted, though even that came to an end eventually.

And yet, Sherlock reluctantly had to agree with his earlier prognosis: Women were not only boring, but completely and disgustingly _tedious._ He'd known that previously from his experiences with John's lovers - all one hundred and forty-four of them - but he had hoped that women he attracted would be more intelligent than the other mindless peons of the female species. After all, if they found _Sherlock_ appealing, well, that was already one point in their direction, right?

Apparently not.

No, as he sits down at the table in the Italian restaurant - not Angelo's, that was his and John's - Sherlock immediately realises that this was not going to work. A friend of Molly's, the girl - _Francesca, Fiona?_ \- is the farthest thing away from a logical being. Ever. In the history of the world.

"No, sorry. This isn't going to work." He stands and turns to leave.

"Wha - what? What's wrong? Did I do something? Do I have - "

"Judging by the hairs on your hems - badly done, by the way - you have three - no, five cats at home. Which is why your fiancé left you, I assume. That, and your affinity for hording their hair when they shed."

"I - I don't - " she stutters pitifully.

"The fact that you haven't even made a effort to clean up when you're obviously having your first date in seven months, along with how your make-up is only half-done, clearly states that you suffer from chronic depression as well." Oh hell, he probably shouldn't have said that last one; Fergus-Fiona person's eyes seem to be brimming over with tears. Molly would never give Sherlock those livers she promised him if he made her friend cry.

He whips out Mycroft's card. "Here, personal therapist. I have it on good authority that he keeps a hefty stash of chocolate biscuits in his office. Evening."

No. This _women_ situation is definitely not going to work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading Chapter Two! Hearts and kisses and all that wonderful shite.

**Author's Note:**

> I shall be posting semi-regularly from now on.
> 
>  
> 
> Title taken from ACD Sherlock Holmes quote "There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact."


End file.
